


Morning Glory

by Swedishlassie



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swedishlassie/pseuds/Swedishlassie
Summary: Claire has herself a very good morning. As she usually does.Enjoy!
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

> A very short little one-shot I did for practice but thought what the hell, why not share the glory... ;-)  
> A HUGE thank you and lots of love to my beta anotherplaceintime for endless patience and support. I would NOT be doing this if it wasn't for you. Also many thanks and hugs to a a very special group of ladies, you know who you are xx

Still lingering in that dreamlike state between sleep and consciousness, when one is not yet aware of  _ where _ one is, or  _ who _ , I feel a gentle, yet distinct, tingling sensation shoot up from between my thighs. When the sensation repeats itself several more times, I drift to the surface, still not sure what is causing these thrills that are reverberating through my body. 

But it doesn’t stop. 

Hot flashes of feverish arousal overtakes me and I grab hold of the bed linen, clenching it in my fists in an effort to brace myself against the jolts of pleasure gushing through me. Despite my attempt at remaining in control, my hips move of their own free will and lift up from off the mattress, trying to bring my aching core closer to whatever it is that is making my thighs quiver and my belly clench in anticipation. 

But they are hindered when two big strong hands grab hold of my thighs and press me down, pinning me in place and in the distance, I hear the word  _ no  _ being uttered with considerable determination. It is accompanied by a low growl that I don’t so much hear, but  _ feel, _ the sound resonating against the delicate flesh between my thighs. I cannot make out exactly what it is he is doing to me (although I  _ know _ what he is doing to me). It feels somehow like I am being caressed, licked, sucked, everywhere and all at once, an attack to my sensitive folds, one that is impossible for me to escape. 

_ Not that I want to escape. _

The intensity of the sensations overwhelm me, almost on the verge of pain, and I writhe and grind myself against his mouth in a futile effort to release some of the built up tension. It is not enough, _not_ _nearly_ _enough_ , so I reach down, hands blindly feeling around until I sense the familiar silky locks, currently held firmly in place between my legs. I tug at his scalp, grab hold of tufts of his hair and push myself harder against his face in a desperate attempt to soothe the unbearable ache, throbbing, burning, _hurting_ deep inside. 

I have no idea why the craving is so painfully urgent  _ this _ time, but for some reason he has awoken a need within me, one that I had no idea even existed to begin with. The feeling is primal, uninhibited and on the verge of dangerous, but I don’t want it to stop,  _ I don't ever want this to stop, _ because then I think I will die. I realise how dramatic the notion sounds, but it doesn’t make it any less true. 

So when the attack only continues in its slow, unbearable pace, bringing me no closer to climax, driving me to insanity, and has me wavering on the edge, unable to reach the satisfaction I crave, I cry out. 

“Jamiiee, pll...ease, please I need...oh God… I need… aahhh... GOD!“ 

It’s impossible to form words, much less coherent sentences, but fortunately he seems to understand, and he withdraws from my overstimulated sex, the lower half of his face dripping, not only from my own dampness, but also from his saliva. I sigh with relief and I hear him panting, catching his breath for a moment before planting soft wet kisses on the insides of my thighs. He is stroking my trembling belly with his warm calloused hands and twirling the small curly hairs beneath it between his fingers, all in an effort to calm me, but also to prepare me for what it is to come. 

One hand reaches up and I feel his fingertips against my nipple, making me tremble from just one touch. A moment later, he puts his lips and tongue upon my heated soaked centre once more and pinches that nipple, tugs at it, moaning when he feels my pussy twitch against his mouth in an instant response to his treatment. My clit is swollen and slick against his tongue, as is everything else, and he takes his time, working me once again into a frenzy as he alternates between delving deep inside my slit, sucking on the enlarged nub and making uneven circles around it. 

Only this time he is intent on giving me release, bringing me closer and closer to oblivion.

Gasps, moans, whimpers escape my lips as the pleasure rapidly increases with each stroke, each lap of his tongue, reaching from spine to navel in a never-ending flow of ecstatic sensations. I hear him moaning too, knowing that he loves this, that he can’t get enough of my taste, of bringing me pleasure, of hearing me making those noises that only  _ his  _ touch draws from me. 

And then I come undone, at last, with a protracted cry, I have absolutely no control over the orgasm that floods me, washing over and under and directly through my entire body. My head is thrown to one side, both my hands in his hair, tugging fiercely. My centre is pulsating and shaking and throbbing uncontrollably for what seems like an eternity until there is nothing left but oblivion, the only sensation a gentle buzzing in my veins. 

He doesn’t let go until he is absolutely sure I am safe on the other side, only adjusting the pace and the pressure, reassuring me that he is with me, that he is riding this wave together with me.

And in the end...

_ Release. _

_ Satisfaction. _

_ Bliss. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
